The Black Rule
by Moony-the-Lindt-addict
Summary: They were all dead, werewolf cattle before the day was out. In the high temple, the oracle sent the most magical of begging to the sky, dancing heart broken in front of the veil of night.  "Save us oh gods, save us before this endless night"
1. Chapter 1

_The Black Rule, prologue_

_Sirius had wanted to say sorry, but James had spoken first and it was as thought he couldn't understand the words, but they burned like sun and ice, and Sirius had just stumbled out, ignoring his angry injunctions to "stay right here and listen to the fucking truth."_

_Right. The truth._

_The forest was welcoming and soothing, he knew it almost by heart, or did he? He wanted to get lost this time. He wanted to get lost, and lose what he was, what he'd done…"the fucking truth", like James had said. _

_He heard a soothing sound in the moonlight and recognised vaguely the lure of the Carnasse Tree, too far to really affect him, but he didn't turn away. He didn't want to die not really, but he was so numb. How to be so numb and still hurt so much. James words ran in his veins like a violent doloris, blinding his mind, and he could still se the hurt in Remus' eyes…those eyes…Oh God…_

_The sting of the tree's smallest thorn muddled up his mind as they drew long ripplets of blood down his ankles, the vines climbing up his body. Funny that, he remembered things now, sunny laughter through amber eyes, the weight of James' arm…There was something important. But hell if he could…Carnnasse tree, lethal…drugs its victims…gee ya think? Oh hell if he…cared… _

_The stayed there, pressed against each other, fear and hunger marring their pale, starved off faces, while the splendid funeral unrolled before them. The chantings raised high, but they were all all too aware of the creatures waiting out in the hills. The last king was dead. They were all dead, werewolf cattle before the day was out. In the high temple, the oracle sent the most magical of begging to the sky, dancing heart broken in front of the veil of night._

"_Save us oh gods, save us before this endless night!"_

_And, slowly, dark crimson vines started extending from the ruined black veil, murmurs of the dead beyond rising high, so high into the night sky._

"_The king is dead. Long live the king. The king is dead. Long live the king. The king is dead. Long live the king…"_

_And on the floor the most perfect body was left, the palest skin, the silkiest hair, and dark storm blue eyes that opened to life once again._

_Long live the king._


	2. Chapter 2

_Sirius Black looked outside the window: the town unrolled at the castle's feet filled with moonflower white faces, and shivering shadows. The night carried out the howling of werewolves far but too close. Way too close._

_Sirius had been raised to be a king, he'd learned all about the royalty his family was from, all about weapons, dark curses, and war strategy from the youngest age, only to discover that he had no kingdom to protect, no one to wage war on, and that his parents like so many of their own attack anyone they could just to remind themselves of a purpose long lost._

_Now he had both. _

_He had children terrified by their own shadows to take care of because there was something out there, something that had none to do with the pathetic civil war of a rotten aristocracy, but a war on humanity itself._

"_Tell me of this world Daltar?"_

_Daltar, tall man with broad shoulder, probably some highly diluted giant blood in his family tree that made him so irremediably tall, straightened up at being spoken to by the king. He'd seen so many of them, dying one after another, and that last one, almost a child hadn't lasted but three months; imbecilic and rotten by inter alliance in a place where there already wasn't much blood to share. Royalty had gone wrong, but it had been the only thing to keep them from falling to the sharp paws of the werewolves. And to have now a king sent by the gods themselves, a king who interested himself into the kingdom…_

'_Maybe we're not doomed just yet…'_

"_They say thousands of years ago the planet was so much larger, then the non magical made it rotten, and the waters rose so fast, and killed so many and only this earth remain, and the ones that had managed to come onto it, the fastest and strongest, and amongst them, the largest number was made of wizards and werewolves. The wizards made the wolves their slaves, infecting all the non magical they could to have more, but the werewolves revolted, turning those who had treated them well, and turning all of the others in a slaughter like no other, and the sea was covered with blood till so far away that none could see beyond the red. But the werewolves were so angry, they did not stop at their tormentors, they killed everything and everyone that was not werewolf just for the sake of destruction, and the rare fortresses that rose in defence were ravaged as soon as the werewolves could muster, until they grew content to just raid and wait for our demise. Why would they bother? They are, after all, immortal."_

"_And they waited us out?"_

_Daltar nodded:_

"_They know of the line of king," he explained, "They knew the last one died tonight and the magical protection granted by the royal blood will fall and the liquid they use to turn us into cattle will work against us once again."_

"_A potion then," Sirius' fingers drummed against the table. "Have the oracle do it on me, I am a pureblood after all and we're nothing if not inbred, I will do just fine. Now I noticed that no one was wearing their wand, how does that work?"_

"_Their wand, your highness?" asked Daltar, thoroughly puzzled._

"_Yes, their wand, you said they were wizards, right, so…they don't have them do they." He paled: "You don't know how to use magic, plain magic, not that ritualistic stuff you do, do you?"_

"_The wand is the privilege of the king; a symbol of the mighty power of the pureblood royalty."_

"_You don't know how to use them? Blimey…" He suddenly grinned: "You know what? We really ARE going to be just fine…"_

_And there was a certainty in his voice that made Daltar's heart swell with hope._

"_Alright", he said, "assemble everyone on the public place, we do have a public place, right? Goody! Assemble everybody there, I'll…do a discourse or something…" he passed a nervous hand in his hair, and stilled, pain shooting through his heart at the familiar gesture._

'_Not now,' he told himself. 'They need you now, you'll think about that later.'_

_Then he found himself in front of them all and he felt very stressed and a large bit stupid._

"_Hm…Hi everyone…" they seemed to burst in spontaneous applause as though just his saying that was exceptional. "Right, listen," he said when it died out. "You're all hungry, and afraid, and tired, and you thought you were gonna die tonight and none of you revolted, and it's wrong. I want you to revolt. I want you to want to live, I want you to have hope, and I swear to God, I will give it to you. Tonight we're not going to push the werewolves back to their quarters until the next time they feel like attacking us, tonight, we will win a battle, we will take their food, and we will free what they call cattle, and we will set their casern on fire, and tonight, at last, we will be wizards again."_

_The applause was a bit off this time, more as though they felt obliged to._

"_Good speech," mentioned Daltar, as he fell into steps with him._

"_It's not just a speech, Daltar. It's really happening. Now, I want all of the wands that were made, including those of the ancient kings to be gathered, taken out and exposed, and everyone to try them on and have a wave at them with whichever hand they feel most comfortable with. If the wand emits sparkles, they keep it, and go on the right side of the court. Once everyone has tried them on the ones that have not gotten a wand will come into the castles great hall, everyone who can shoot an arrow, or with a gun will be put on one side, everyone who can melt metal on another, the rest of them is to be shipped off to the treasure room with you to find everything silver and pile it in the great hall, the armours will be kept and adjusted on every soldier, every weapon kept, all the rest of it will be melted into arrows, darts, and bullets. However everyone in that group who can recognise a gun is to look only for them, and they will be piled outside of the rest. All the actual arrows are to be retrieved and piled away on their own as well, and every inch of liquid mercury retrieved from the potion storage room, is the potion master actually proficient or can he only do the potion of escalation that you told me of?"_

"_What other potion is there your highness?" asked Daltar, as his most trusted guard took off to obey the king's orders._

_Sirius sighed:_

"_Never mind, I'll have to do that one myself, good thing my dear mother made me learn it by heart."_

_The Captain did not comment of the perceived irony on the name of his mother._

"_Okay, here; he wrote a list of ingredients on a piece of paper, I need you to retrieve that from the potion storage room as well. Go on, chop, chop!"_

_Daltar looked at the kings back in stunned disbelief: what in heaven's name was he suppose to chop?_


	3. Chapter 3

"_They're cutting things," exclaimed Lavin in shock as he looked at the people waving their brand new wands, following the king's words. It had taken a few hour, but they were all cutting the wood chunk put in front of them for practise._

"_They're cutting things at distance! By waving! And look, look! There are sparkles!"_

_Daltar had to admit it was a bit unsettling._

"_Still," muttered the head of the counsel darkly, "How is that going to help?"_

_Daltar grinned widely:_

"_If I'm not mistaken, lord Amadan, I think those chunks of woods actually represent the werewolves."_

_The man's ungraceful face lit up with such a smile as to make him almost pretty._

_Fro the first time in centuries, casualties were on the werewolve's side, and they were followed by a screaming mob all the way to their military camp, the humans they kept as cattle or pets set free, their food taken, and their houses burnt to the ground._

_Sirius Black wasn't to break a single promise in many centuries._

_Malek had once been a chieftain amongst his own; he had been so brave and respected; he wondered how brave he could be now that he knew fear. He had fought against hordes of vampires, and the savagery of centaures that had wanted more lands, and for centuries he had conducted raids against wizards. The To-Be-Cattle, he'd called them, he shivered as he saw for the hundredth time the irresistibly beautiful face, fire playing magnificently on the moonlight coloured skin, and the golden sword against his neck that had hurt like silver. The big guard had stood behind him; Malek had known him before, one of the few he had had respect for, one of the few he'd intended to turn, looking down on him with so much anger and fury, and lethal intent._

"_End him, my king."_

_King? This? A king? He had seen the kings of mortals, centuries of incest making them ugly little worms, the last one had barely been able to tell his own name; if name he had._

"_I saw his alpha run," the young man had said; he was what, fifteen, seventeen? He radiated the adrenalin of battle. A king who fought? He'd bent over him, unafraid, but Malek had found a hint of sadness when he'd looked into the typically yellow eyes:_

"_Go find him, and tell him, that humans will be slaves no more. And I'm not saying wizards. Your cattle are my subjects. Mortals. For now. There will be a human kingdom like there is a vampire kingdom on your frontiers, because I say there will be, and I never break my promises. No more."_

_A king? This was a god!_

"_There it is."Sirius said with a smile. "Wizards really did good in protecting their books when they were hiding from the werewolves."_

"_What is it, my lord?" asked Mermaid._

_Sirius had established a new noblety, a noblety of arms chosen for their exploit at war. Lord Mermaid had thus been called because he had managed to single-handedly turn a battle by opening the gates of the river from under water for their new lovely war pets: large, poisonous, very, intensely malicious sea serpents. Sirius loved to play with them; he had named the youngest Tally, and spent most of his days tickling her with spells or sending out balls for her to catch to the great amusement of his ministers._

_This new noblety was slowly driving out the incest induced problems in the more ancient aristocracy, and the babies that came in spades, looked healthier, and much, much prettier._

"_The Black book," Sirius grinned. "I did say that our mortality would no longer expose us to the savagery of the wolves didn't I?"_

"_But they are immortals. They live long enough to remember our tactics and accommodate them, and you won't be around for ever, nor will your dynasty, especially if you don't take a wife," scolded Lord Amadan._

_Sirius rolled his eyes at him; it was a great matter of disagreement between the both of them:_

"_I'm only nineteen," pouted the young king in annoyment making his companions laugh at him. Most of them had already been married several times and only Daltar was over thirty –thirty one, as a matter of fact. He glared at them: "Anyways, I have studied that book through and there is something there tat will put us on an equal footing with the werewolves on that front, I just have to refresh my memory, and then we'll be ready to go."_

"_My lord, unless you have something that will make us equally immortal…" started lord Amadan._

_Sirius smiled broadly, a smug glint in his eyes, and Lord Amadan's jaw fell with a plop:_

"_No…You don't mean to say…"_

_Sirius' handsome grin widened again, if that was even possible:_

"_Oh, I mean to say!"_

_His answer was met by laughter of exhilaration. No one even bothered with disbelief –they knew their king too well…_

"_I'm not sure I understand," said the werewolf emperor slowly; "Are the centaurs moving against us again? The last pact we made was really eligible for them; they are unlikely to gain anything; and…they don't really need anything more, their territory is more than wide enough for all of them; there is much pasture, even a few unicorns…"_

"_If it is them, they have sustained a radical change in tactics milord; our camps are burnt to the ground, with no survivors, except for the alphas who flew away with their closest."_

"_Where are those then?" asked James Potter, standing behind Remus Lupin of whom he was the beta._

_He was one of the rare purebloods to have been turned during the Revolution, he'd not only treated his only slave, Remus, well, but had made him a friend a stroke against anyone who had said a thing against him. The Prince Remus, favourite son of the Emperor Aruma, never would've let him die._

"_We think they are coming over to the capital, but milord, for them to have left the fortresses unprotected, the menace must have been much greater than any centaurs."_

"_Send someone to retrieve them with horse," said Lord Aruma, "I want to know what this menace is."_

"_We have done so as soon as we learned of this, father," calmly said Remus. "They should arrive right about now."_

_And indeed, a fuss was heard in the corridor and this alphas and some betas appeared, unshaved and unclean, dark bags under their eyes, guilt, and tiredness, and hunger, written all over their faces._

"_Just in time," grinned James. Remus shook his head at how childish he was:_

"_Malek, my friend, it's good to see you. I hope you don't mind telling us quickly about this before going to freshen up?"_

"_Not at all, my lord," assured the werewolf. Remus wondered where his brashness had gone._

"_Well?" said the emperor. "Who is responsible for this breech in my kingdom?"_

"_There is no breech, your imperial majesty," said Malek's alpha, Grommy, "They were always there. The wizards are responsible for this."_

_The silence was deafening, and the youngest prince, Salim, burst out laughing:_

"_Okay, that was a fun joke, but really?"_

"_The wizards are weak," said James, "They have forgotten everything they were and are now on the edge of destruction, royal blood no longer protecting them from the serum that we inject the cattle."_

_Another Alpha from up North, the town of Dura shook his head:_

"_The protection is stronger than before; they undo the serum with potions and chanting, sneaking in our towns with glamours on that makes them smell, and look and walk like werewolves. They come with shining silver blades, with explosives of which we know of but by stories, with spells which turn our worlds to pain. It is only mercy that they do not make us into the cattle we turned them into. And though they can die, they know things before we do, drinking as they do the golden breaths of the goddess of luck."_

"_It's just a potion," groaned James, "Felix felicis, liquid luck, I was too young to learn of it, yet."_

"_They are immortal now, as well," said a lone beta." My alpha stayed because he said they'd grown too bold, that Amedia was too large to be taken by a bunch of cattle to be kids. We fell them, and they woke up, colour coming back to their faces and throats healing faster than lightning. Then we started screaming. They don't take prisoners; they don't take slaves. My alpha asked his adversary why, and he told them they didn't have the lesure to insult us like we insulted them, and that their king forbid it; that he said that we would not turn them into animalistic barbarians no matter how much serum we injected in their veins."_

"_Is that so?" said Emperor, at the same time an alpha said "REALLY?" in a gleeful tone, that made them all turn to him; he didn't look to have been tried like the others, actually he looked remarkably clean, well fed and cheery, a bright smile on his face. He was extremely handsome, with shoulder length honey blond hair. He oozed authority so much that anyone would have taken him for one of the princes sitting at the table._

"_Erm…yes…" muttered the other alpha, looking from him to the emperor to the blond, obviously at a loss as to which he was supposed to answer to._

"_Oh, that's so cute, they're really having fun with the provocation, aren't they?"_

"_And you are?"_

_The blond gave him a sunny grin:_

"_Oh, Sirius, Sirius Black, lovely to be here!"_


	4. Chapter 4

_James stared: there was something not quite right about this; something too many centuries had past for him to remember. A young boy with dark hair hiding from his mother behind a counter before all went to hell; but what could it mean… So many memories made no sense anymore._

_Sirius Black looked around him in interest, a large werewolf with the attitude of a beta standing very closed behind him with a dark expression, daring anyone to approach. He acted a bit like Remus had, looming behind James until werewolves stopped calling him names for his pureblood back ground, until the bullying stopped. Werewolves tended to take things too far._

_The blond alpha crossed his eyes, and he saw his face change; unhidden pain for the smallest moment of adjustment; a small gasp that his lips couldn't hold; and his eyes flickered to Remus for so small a time but James could have bet that the pain had increase in that small time. He turned away from them; and suddenly things changed. His hair turned black, growing past his shoulders and down his knees at an alarming rate, loosely tressed with silver threads, intricate silver jewels adorning it; and the smell rose over, something smooth and ancient like old wine, that James had never smelt because emus had saved him from that part of the war but that he remembered at once. Pureblood._

"_Blimey", muttered Salim. The young prince was looking the man over with obvious lust:_

"_Couldn't he be turned, father?" he muttered, long lashes lowered in appraisal: "I want him."_

_Black snorted:_

"_Well said I'm sure, at least for a petulant three years old."_

"_You will respect you betters," jumped his beta with fury etched on his face._

"_Oh I do respect my betters. But they ain't you."_

"_I dare you?"_

_Black popped out of existence, appearing with a silver blade on his throat with a smooth popping sound:_

"_Do yourself a favour, moron, and shut your bloody mouth!"_

_He disappeared again, back to his…Well the werewolf couldn't be a beta now could he? Was he even a werewolf. The feral growl he let out looking at Salim's beta was proof enough that he was._

"_Now here comes, I'm here to discuss a treaty."_

_Salim laughed lightly:_

"_Oh please, why in the love of God would we make a treaty with _you_!"_

_Black laughed at him:_

"_Because if you don't, I will advance; again and again, taking every town, every city; and killing every werewolf if I have to, and one way or another, humans will have their kingdom."_

"_Why do you care about mere humans?" suddenly asked James, finally remembering the feeling. "The Blacks always were prejudiced against muggles."_

"_You stand him, too much of a coward to look in the eyes of the people you ruin forever. Tell me, do you feel justified in this. The great, open minded James Potter, who had a werewolf as a best friend. Do you look in their eyes? Do you look in the eyes of a three year old toddler as you inject the poison that will dull their brains and loose them forever, or do you not even bother? When I came here, you know, my people told me to just curse you all into oblivion, and believe me when I tell you how close I was to do it. You call yourselves princes? You call yourselves noble and brave, and there you are attacking three year old infants everyday of your life, and not even caring anymore; royalty cares about every one of his subjects not just the ones they choose. Or else their tyrants. Not that you'd understand the difference, would you? It's the same for you."_

"_How dare you!..."_

"_I DARE BECAUSE YOU STAND AT THIS TABLE ACTING LIKE RULLERS WHEN YOU'RE NO MORE THAT CHILDREN IN POWERFUL ROBES, PLAYING WITH THE LIVES OF PEOPLE. Now I hope it was fun because if you don't accept that contract, you will have a war on your hands that you are doomed to loose. Remember; we know of your weakness now, and the mines of Amedia will not run out of silver to mould before centuries on end. We are the immortals, now, but as I see you will not be prevailed upon, I shall return to my own. Send your messenger with a white flag when you realise how much of an idiot you are. Not that I complain. Just means that the contract will be on our terms."_

_He grabbed the werewolf that had accompanied him and casually popped them out of existence._

_A couple of hundred years later_

"_Remus."_

_The blond werewolf stood up immediately from the breakfast table:_

"_Father?"_

_Aruma shook his head:_

"_No son, don't bother." He took a deep sight: "What has become of your army then?"_

"_Dead, well most of them. As should I."_

"_Whatever do you mean?"_

"_I met him in battle, Finstern as they call him, the king of the Night Veil. But he didn't kill me. He held his blade on my throat but the strangest expression overtook his face; and he let go; disappearing in the battle like a ghost of blood. I still wish I understood."_

"_He seems somewhat partial towards you. I was going to send Salim, because, well…"_

"_Because he's such a slut?" suggested James._

_Remus stifled a laughter, and the emperor's lips cracked a small smiled._

"_Are we to make a peace treaty, then, father?"_

"_A peace treaty, I'm afraid would be on their terms; as he said rightfully all those years ago. I should wish I had listened then. No, the only way we will not be robbed as the losers of this war is to make this an alliance."_

"_A royal wedding," guessed Remus. "Like with the vampires."_

"_Yes…A wedding…"_


End file.
